I Dream of Reyes

by Susan P.
  Fandom: X-Files      Pairing: Scully/Reyes  
  Rating, etc.: 17+  
  Spoilers: 8th season, but nothing major, so long as you know who Reyes, Doggett &/or little William are.  
  Summary: The title kind of says it all. Scully dreams of 'extreme possibilities' regarding Agent Reyes.  
  Author's Notes: This could, conceivably, work as a sequel to my story, "The Metaphysics of Scully," but it can also stand alone. You won't need to have read the former to understand this.  
  Disclaimers: They're not mine, but I think my versions have much more fun than those of Carter, 1013, Fox, etc.  
  Permission to Archive: Passion and Perfection and The ScullySlash Archive have it. ShatterStorm Productions may have it.   Anyone else, please ask first.  


"You planning on sleeping all day?"

"Mmph," she grumbled, curling more tightly around the pillow in her arms.

"Come oo-on," the voice sing-songed, prompting another grunt from the still half-asleep woman. She would have to be a morning person... "Your alarm's going to go off soon, anyway."

That roused her slightly. "Mhm. Whatimeisit?" she mumbled quickly, still too tired to enunciate.

She felt a body, warm and solid, slip under the covers and lean into her back. "6:15."

"Mm. Still time. Stay here with me."

The body leaned in closer, warming her further. She felt the hot breath against her neck as her companion asked, "What?"

"Ohh. This feels good. Stay with me until the alarm goes off. Hold me."

She felt an arm slip around her waist and the other woman's legs slide up behind hers.

"Are you sure you want me...to stay?"

Had she been more awake, the hesitation in the woman's speech, the tone in her voice, might have given her pause. But her sleep-fogged mind could process nothing but the comforting sensation of the warm body behind her. So she just answered, "Yeah."

That body seemed to pull back slightly, but only for a moment. As she fell back toward the darkness of sleep, she felt one arm slide beneath her neck and the other wrap securely around her mid-section as the other woman fitted their bodies together again.

Her own murmured, "mhm-hm," was the last thing she was aware of for some time.

When she began to regain some awareness of who and where she was, her senses focused on the feelings of tightness, and heat, in her groin. What had she been dreaming about? Was she still dreaming?

No. She finally registered the hand--definitely female, and with callouses similar to those on her own right hand--caressing her thigh. And the warm body curled around her from behind. Well, that explained her state of arousal. Sort of. She was just beginning to try to formulate some kind of protest to the touch, when that hand gripped her right thigh just above the knee and pulled it up and back slightly to rest atop the leg the other woman slipped between hers.

"Rey-uh!" The absurdity of calling the woman by her last name struck her at the same moment Monica's hand cupped her mons through its thin silk covering, cutting off any hope of coherent thought.

"What... ohhhh.... what... areyoudoing?" she sputtered out as fingers began a slow, sensual, massage of the all-too-sensitive area. Those fingers had begun to tease their way beneath the edge of the strip of cloth between her thighs when she finished. 

The fingers stilled, though they did not pull away, and the woman behind her reared up to look at her closely. "Do you..." she asked, uncertainly, "Do you want me to stop?"

She knew what her answer should be--what it would have been if her usual defenses had been in place. But the maddening closeness of those fingers, and the frustration of having satisfaction so close at hand --Great, now I'm thinking in bad puns -- but still just out of reach, was suddenly too much to bear.

She breathed out a low, keening, "nooohhhhhh. Touch me. Take me. Now. Please," her voice rising with each syllable.

"Yes, Dana," Monica whispered as long, supple fingers found a home in slick heat. "For you. Anything for you...."

Those fingers reveled in their work, bringing her body to a crescendo of sensation, and then over the brink as she heard the woman call her name.

"Dana... Dana... 

"Dana, wake up."

Then a hand gripped her arm, dragging her back to consciousness. "Mhm?"

"I'm sorry to wake you, Dana, but I'll need to leave soon..."

It all came back to her then: the late-night request for an autopsy, Agent Reyes offering to sit with William, the unexpected pleasure of seeing Monica sprawled on her couch, sleeping peacefully, when she returned...


"He's fine, Dana. Changed and relatively content, for the moment. You might have time for a quick shower before he starts demanding breakfast," Monica smiled down at her.

"Shower," she mumbled. Her mouth felt dry and somehow sticky at the same time, and she caught a whiff of formaldehyde still clinging to her skin. She pushed herself up and struggled to free herself from the bed linens. And from the remnants of the dream. "That sounds good."

Reyes backed up a step to give her room to stand. "Why didn't you wake me last night?"

"I didn't see any real point in it. I knew I'd have to speak to you about the autopsy today, anyway. Besides, you looked kinda cute, actually." She couldn't believe she'd slipped and spoken that thought out loud, but Reyes' quizzical look seemed to confirm that she had.

The other agent didn't seem inclined to ask, though, for which she was grateful.

"About the autopsy... What did you find?"

"Oh. The cause of death was due to a blunt-force trauma to the back of the head. The body was exsanguinated post-mortem. Looks like your killer may just be a run-of-the-mill murderer with a vampirism fetish. I did find some trace material that may help you determine what the murder weapon was. I sent it off to the crime lab for analysis," Scully replied as she went about retrieving her robe, fresh underthings, towels, etc. for her shower.

"Agent Doggett will be so pleased," Reyes grinned.

Scully returned the gesture. "Yes, I suspect he will be. Thank you for watching William for me last night, Agent Reyes," she said as she turned toward the bathroom.

Monica's voice stopped her, though. "Dana. Um," she fidgeted, "if you don't mind my asking... Who's Ray?"

Scully was utterly confused. "Huh? Ray who?"

Reyes still looked nervous. "Oh. Well. In your sleep... You-- you seemed to be having a rather...erotic...dream. And, I-uh... I thought I heard you call out the name, 'Ray.'" 

Scully could feel the blush flaming across her cheeks. "Oh, uh... I don't remember..."

"Too bad," Monica smiled conspiratorially. "From the way you were carrying on, it sounds like he was a pretty good lover..."

"Yes, well... It was a pretty nice dream. Um, I'll be out in a couple of minutes," Scully turned back toward the bathroom as quickly as she dared, hoping the other agent would read her embarrassment and choose not to pursue it further. 

"I'll see if I can keep William occupied in the meantime," Reyes' voice was all-too-chipper. 


By turning away so quickly, and not looking back, Scully missed the smirk on Monica's face, and the speculative gleam in her eye.



© June 2001